A year of…



He first spotted the shape of a heart on the pavement, waiting for a bus. It turned out to be a tiny piece of a wet paper. But it was a Heart. Loveheart. And he thought of her. Of how caring and attentive she was. How great sex they had this morning. There was a little romance in sending the image through Whatsapp, it was just a instant thought. But soon after there was an another shape of heart in an unexpected place. And another. They kept coming. As if he was looking out for them. But he wasn’t. He didn’t need to prove or declare his love to her, there was no quest to fulfill, no demand to meet.

But still, in a weeks to come, her mobile would beep with notification at the most unexpected times and there would be yet another image of a heart and she would smile and feel very warm inside.


She too would often see the lovehearts. While cooking dinner for her kids. On the paintbrush when working. Or in the shape of the clouds when she looked at the sky, and it didn’t matter that she was far away and he was no longer with her. She would still send her loveheart over because habit is a habit, right?

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